«Let me move it, bench and all,» he said steadily. «Now try it again. Just a burst.»
Again the gun rasped. And the earth was kicked up suddenly where the bullets struck in that other world. The little steel-jacketed missiles were deflected by the terribly overstrained magnets of the catapult, but their energy was not destroyed. It was merely altered in direction. Fired within the laboratory upon our own and normal world, the bullets came out into the world of tree-ferns and monstrous things. They came out, as it happened, sidewise instead of point first, which was due to some queer effect of dimension change upon an object moving at high velocity. Because of that, they ricocheted much more readily, and where they struck they made a much more ghastly wound. But the first two bursts caused no effect at all. They were not even noticed by the Ragged Men. The noise of the little gun was thunderous and snarling in the laboratory, but in the world of the fifth dimension there was no sound at all.
«Like this,» said Tommy steadily. «Just like this… Now fire!»
He had tilted the muzzle upward. And then with a horrible grim intensity he traversed the gun as it roared.
And it was butchery. Three Ragged Men were cut literally to bits before the storm of bullets began to do real damage. The squabbling group, casting lots for Evelyn, had a swath of dead men in its midst before snarls begun had been completed.
«Again,» said Tommy coldly. «Again, Smithers, again!»
And again the little gun roared. The burly bearded man clutched at his throat-and it was a gory horror. A Thing began to run insanely. It did not even look human any longer. It stumbled over the leader of the Ragged Men and died as he had done. The bullets came tumbling over themselves erratically. They swooped and curved and dispersed themselves crazily. Spinning as they were, at right angles to their line of flight, their trajectories were incalculable and their impacts were grisly.
The little gun fired ten several bursts, aimed in a desperate coldbloodedness, before the smell of burnt rubber became suddenly overpowering and the rasping sound of an electric arc broke through the rumbling of the crude-oil engine in the back.
Smithers sobbed.
«Burnt out!»
But Tommy waved his hand.
«I think,» he said savagely, «that maybe a dozen of them got away. Evelyn’s staggering toward her father. She’ll turn him loose. That prisoner’s dead, though. Didn’t mean to shoot him, but those bullets flew wild.»
He gave Smithers the eyepiece. Sweat was rolling down his forehead in great drops. His hands were trembling uncontrollably.
He paced shakenly up and down the laboratory, trying to shut out of his own sight the things he had seen when the bullets of his own aiming literally splashed into the living flesh of men. He had seen Ragged Men disemboweled by those spinning, knife-like projectiles. He had turned a part of the mad world of that other dimension into a shambles, and he did not regret it because he had saved Evelyn, but he wanted to shut out the horror of seeing what he had done.
«But now,» he said uncertainly to himself, «they’re no better off, except they’ve got weapons… If that man from the Golden City hadn’t been killed…»
He was looking at the magnetic catapult, burned out and useless. His eyes swung suddenly to the other one. Just a little while since he had made ready a missile to be thrown through into the other world by that. It contained snapshots, and diagrams, and it was an attempt to communicate with the men of the Golden City without any knowledge of their language.
«But-I can communicate with Denham!»
He began to write feverishly. If he had looked out of the laboratory window, he would have seen Von Holtz running like a deer, waving his arms jerkily, and-when out of earshot of the laboratory- shouting loudly. And Von Holtz was carrying a small black box which Tommy would have identified instantly as a motion picture camera, built for amateurs but capable of taking pictures indoors and with a surprisingly small amount of light. And if Tommy had listened, he might possibly have heard the beginnings of those shoutings to men hidden in a patch of woodland about a quarter of a mile away. The men, of course, were Jacaro’s, waiting either until Von Holtz had secured the information that was wanted, or until an assault in force upon the laboratory would net them a catapult ready for use -to be examined, photographed, and duplicated at leisure.
But Tommy neither looked nor listened. He wrote feverishly, saying to Smithers at the dimensoscope, «Denham’ll be looking around to see what killed those men. When he does, we want to be ready to shoot a smoke-bomb through to him, with a message attached.»
Smithers made a gesture of no especial meaning save that he had heard. And Tommy went on writing swiftly, saying who he was and what he had done, and that another globe was being built so that he and Smithers could come with supplies and arms to help..
«He’s lookin’ around now, Mr. Reames,» said Smithers quietly. «He’s picked up a ricocheted bullet an’ is staring at it.»
The crude-oil engine was running at a thunderous rate. Tommy fastened his note in the little missile he had made ready. He placed it under the solenoid of the catapult after Denham’s design, with the springs and rings of metallic ammonium. He turned to Smithers.
«I’ll watch for him,» said Tommy unsteadily. «You know, watch for the right moment to fling it through. Slow up the generator a little. It’ll rack itself to pieces.»
He put his eye to the eyepiece. He winced as he saw again what the bullets of his aiming had done. But he saw Denham almost at once. And Denham was scratched and bruised and looked very far indeed from the ideal of a professor of theoretic physics, with hardly more than a few shreds of clothing left upon him, and a ten-days’ beard upon his face. He limped as he walked. But he had stopped in the task of gathering up weapons to show Evelyn excitedly what it was that he had found. A spent and battered bullet, but indubitably a bullet from the world of his own ken. He began to stare about him, hopeful yet incredulous.
Tommy took his eye from the dimensoscope just long enough to light the fuse of the smoke-bomb.
«Here it goes, Smithers!»
He flung the switch. The missile with its thickly smoking fuse leaped upward as the concentric rings flickered and whirled bewilderingly. The missile hurt the eyes that watched it. It vanished. The solenoid dropped to the floor from the broken small contrivance.
Then Tommy’s heart stood still as he gazed through the eyepiece again. He could see nothing but an opaque milkiness. But it drifted away, and he realized that it was smoke. More, Denham was staring at it. More yet, he was moving cautiously toward its source, one of the strange golden weapons held ready…
Denham was investigating.
The generator at the back of the laboratory slowed down. Smithers was obeying orders. Tommy hung close by the vision instrument, his hands moving vaguely and helplessly, as one makes gestures without volition when anxious for someone else to duplicate the movements for which he sets the example.
He saw Denham, very near, inspecting the smoking thing on the ground suspiciously. The smoke-fuse ceased to burn. Denham stared. After an age-long delay, he picked up the missile Tommy had prepared. And Tommy saw that there was a cord attached to it. He had fastened that cord when planning to try to communicate with the men of the Golden City, when he had expected them to be victorious.
But he saw Denham’s face light up with pathetic hope. He called to Evelyn. He hobbled excitedly to her, babbling..
Tommy watched, and his heart pounded suddenly as Evelyn turned and smiled in the direction in which she knew the dimensoscope must be. A huge butterfly, its wings a full yard across, fluttered past her head. Denham talked excitedly to her. A clumsy batlike thing swooped by overhead. Its shadow blanketed her face for an instant. A running animal, small and long, ran swiftly in full view from one side of the dimensoscope’s field of vision to the other. Then a snake, curiously horned, went writhing past..